The Moon without the Stars
by Kurumaka
Summary: "When Seamus' magic started feeling off, he thought he pushed himself too far. There was no way it had anything to do with James leaving. No way." or "The tale of a stubborn mage that wouldn't admit he had a bond with his apprentice." Except he would. / JEAMUS / MEDIEVAL AU
1. Prologue

Gentle breeze drafted through a crack of the open window, mixing with the stale air inside a tower, permitting of herbs and stone dusts that didn't quite have a smell, but did wonders to a human's mind in imagining one. A short blond stood in the middle of an organized chaos, pale hands busied with a masher full of herbs an ordinary person wouldn't know the names of even in their wildest dreams. He was surrounded by an array of books and vials, parchments and feathers with dried ink on them, jars of oils, dried herbs and stones.

He navigated the seeming cluster of items on the table well, reaching for a vial filled with a red liquid without lifting his gaze from the mix of quartz dust and poppy seeds in a jar standing in front of him. He tipped it and doused the mixture with a few drops, carelessly putting the vial back onto the wooden table between countless others. He stirred the future elixir, hand moving automatically in perfect circles.

When he was satisfied with his work, he poured the now greenish liquid into an empty jar and flicked his wrist at the used jar. Any leftover traces of the elixir vanished into thin air, leaving just the strong scent in their wake.

The mage stepped back, hands hovering by his sides, covered by the long sleeves of his robe. He eyed the jar and the liquid as it stilled inside it slowly. He wasn't even sure why he'd made the potion; it's not like anyone would use it. It was a calming potion, used to sedate the nerve system after an unwanted violent burst of aggression. He had no use for such a potion, long used to keeping his emotions in check.

He sighed.

Truth be told, he only made it in vain hope. His apprentice had a problem with aggression and Seamus often had to give him a potion to calm him when it got really out of control. He supposed he shouldn't call him his apprentice anymore; James left almost a full moon ago, after deeming his skill in the magical hand enough for whatever he wished to do for a living.

Seamus wouldn't hold it against him, he was no more than a simple teacher to the temperament blacknet. Though, no matter how embarrassing it was to admit, Seamus had grown accustomed to the young mage. The tower felt.. empty, without James' voice filling its air with questions and random bits of conversations that were nothing more than a wish to elevate the somehow tense air that always seemed to gloat around Seamus.

Seamus frowned. At this rate, he would have a use for the potion.

He lifted the jar to his lips and drank the whole thing in one gulp, wiping the few stray droplets from his mouth with the back of his hand. Though the potion was meant to be used during a violent fit, it was a general sedative and would work well even on his nervous, anxious body.

There was only such a difference between anger and anxiety, after all.

As he felt the potion burning its way through his body, Seamus sighed and slumped into the only sitting utensil he had in his little laboratory; a small wooden stool. Its surface was tainted with countless stains of unidentifiable liquids from the long years it had served its purpose here. James used to sit on it quite a lot, as Seamus himself preferred to stand while working.

Seamus couldn't do much more than sigh again as even his relaxed mind tripped over his attempts of concentrating on tangible things in front of him and went back and around to the blacknet who was who knows where.

Actually, Seamus knew very well where James was. The blacknet was on his way to Ferta, a little over halfway there.

Seamus could see him, could see where he was if he closed his eyes and concentrated enough. He could feel the gravelly path underneath his leather soles as of he were the one walking it, could feel the autumn breeze as if he were the one walking through it.

Even in the state of utmost euphoria, Seamus' mind refused to stay within itself and instead led him in James' path, his eyelids closing on their own accord and allowing him to look through the blacknet's eyes, at the dense forest surrounding him. He shivered at the gust of air until he realized it wasn't James who felt the sensation, but rather it was him. The window in his laboratory had opened itself and the gusts of air sweeping in made goosebumps appear on his skin.

Seamus waved his hand, as if in dismissal, and the glass pane slid into its proper place, locking itself and keeping the wind out as its original purpose said to. The blonde mage could feel the potion wearing off already - it couldn't've been more than half an hour of sitting still as a rock.

He let out a shaky breath. He would accomplish nothing at this rate. He stood up, smoothing out his dark robe and looking the room over. It was a mess.

He was a mess.

His magic was boiling in his veins, a raging inferno instead of the quiet, contained flame within his core that it was on normal occasions. He couldn't let this go on. If his magic wished for it to be - and gods, did it -, he would pursue James and quench the thirst the inferno inside him had of closeness.

He took a step forward, but instead of his foot hitting the stone floor of his laboratory, it landed on a patch of thinning grass, in front of the tower. He continued Stepping, skipping every couple hundreds of metres as he set course to Ferta.

Gods, he thought he was supposed to be the trained one. He couldn't even keep his magic in check; he needed the presence of a freshly trained mage.

Oh how he was mistaken.


	2. Chapter 1

The thick cape did almost nothing to shield Seamus from the gusts of wind. It might as well have been absent for all it was doing. (That, or his body temperature was too high, making everything seem cold - he didn't want to think about that.) His short frame shivered, but he still Stepped forward, only every few hundred metres, to save himself the nausea that would arise if he travelled a long distance. He wasn't used to travelling very far; his tower and the forest surrounding it always had everything he had needed.

His path took him down river streams and merchant ways. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the familiar warmth of James' magic. It felt like a constant stream of warm water washing over him. His own magic dwelled merrily in his chest, content with his choice of following his ex-apprentice. He was sure it'd become the raging storm like before if he decided to suddenly turn back.

Though he wasn't very pleased with his magic's decision of binding itself to James', he didn't want it to become unstable or corrupted. If it wanted something, it'd get it, else the consequences would be… less than good for him. Seamus didn't like the whole mechanic of magic binding, honestly. That's why he kept to himself in the toast. His magic was always like a small, warm fire, but ever since James sought him out, it'd been more of a forest fire, contained within his veins as it poured around his body. He made a mental note to ask James why he chose Seamus especially for his training. Not that he wasn't flattered.

But it was honestly unsettling for his magic to bind itself to the first mage - untrained at that! - he'd seen in years.

But he couldn't go against it without putting his body in danger of energy spillage. Gods knew he wouldn't do that to himself.

He watched the road pass beneath his own and James' feet as well, slipping in and out of the blacknet's vision to make sure he wouldn't run head first into a tree trunk. Wouldn't be the first time.

Seamus was progressing a lot quicker, his and James' magics already halfway to each other on his mental map. He thought that James might've been just walking instead of Stepping, because it took him a whole moon to get halfway to Ferma. Seamus had been Stepping for only a few hours and he was already halfway to James. The other might've been stopping at villages, though - he must've been hungry and tired throughout the journey.

Seamus simply passed them, making sure to Step far enough behind so be wouldn't be noticed by the villagers. He didn't like the stares he got from people, as if they knew what he was with a single look.

He found quite a nice rhythm to his Stepping, almost gliding from place to place, feet only touching the ground after a Step. His dark cloak must've fee made him look like a shadow m appearing and disappearing in mere blinks.

His eyes raked the surrounding trees and bushes of wildlife. In a few hours, he'd bump into James. What then, he had no idea.

* * *

><p>It'd taken until the nightfall for Seamus to come close enough to feel James' magic without concentration. It pulsed among his spine, a pleasant tingle going up and down constantly.<p>

He ended up in a village, despite his obvious distaste. But James' magic was tugging him, as if on a leash. His own magic purred happily by his heart. He walked the streets, passing purple that openly gaped at him. If he weren't wearing his dark cloak, he'd have attracted even more stares; his purple tunic was a clear giveaway of his heritage in the magic hand.

He followed the feeling in his gut - really, James' magic never found a stable place to stay in his body -, like a compass, ending up in front of a tavern, if the sign overhead and the loud, drunken banter coming from inside were of any indication.

He pushed the for open and was immediately flooded with the heavy stench of alcohol in the air, as well as perspiration. It reeked.

Seamus scrunched his nose, looking the place over. It was filled with men and women alike, drinking and singing - loudly. He looked at their faces, stopping once his eyes landed on James, who was sitting at the bar, jug in hand and talking to some man in a colourful robe. Seamus though him a master or a bard, most likely, in a place like this.

He made a beeline for the bar, dodging a growing fight around one of the tables and stopping a plate being chucked in his general direction. He sat on a stool on the other side of James, his magic jumping in his chest. It stirred, pumping through his veins and making the already too-warm-for-pleasure tavern a magma cove. He thought about it as a second heart, one that had a will of its own (and made him hot).

"Hey," he greeted. James jumped, turning to face him with a clear expression of surprise overpowering his features.

"Seamus!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you about something." He glared at the bard over James' shoulder and added, "In private."

James nodded, turning to offer an apology to the man before he stood up and let Seamus lead him out into the crispy night air.

"What happened?" James asked. Seamus smacked his lips, thinking of a good way to word it. "Do you remember when I told you about magics bonding?"

James nodded after a small time, remembering the talk. "My magic bonded itself to yours."


	3. Chapter 2

"You… What?"

"It wasn't me!" Seamus protested immediately, the dumbstruck expression of James' doing wonders to his irritation, even though he had no idea why. "I don't choose who my magic binds to. So now I'm stuck with you. Hope you are not fed up with me yet." The last part was under toned with sarcasm, but Seamus shuddered at the mere thought of James actually *being* fed up with him. Well, he put up with the blond's antics for years, so what reason did he have to stop?

Right?

"Oh no, this is actually great!" James exclaimed. His face split into a wide grin. "I didn't actually want to leave you in the first place," he explained, somewhat sheepishly. "I have something to do, though. Somewhere to go, you know? But now we're together again and we'll stay together; this is great!"

Seamus watched him pace, hands gesticulating wildly as he talked. Seamus didn't have the heart to tell him he looked like a madman. It seemed like the weight of the whole thing didn't hit him yet.

It felt like mere days ago that James disrupted the tower's magic barrier. Seamus thought it was someone powerful, maybe thinking of taking his small region over (wouldn't've happened), but no, it was a young, untrained mage seeking a master to train him in the magics. James looked young, but that meant nothing as Seamus himself surely didn't look five hundred years old. It was his aura that betrayed twenty to be his real age; with its curiousness and eagerness.

Seamus knew James couldn't see his aura, but he wondered what would happen when he saw it - dark and tired. Probably nothing, but James never managed to learn how to See auras. It *was* a tedious process of learning, and James was never able to sit and meditate for more than a few minutes. It took Seamus a decade to master.

His train of thought was derailed when James waved a hand in front of his face. His first instinct was to push it away, so he did just that, scowling at the scowling darknet. "What were you saying?"

"That pigs learned to fly and chickens cooked themselves," James said, tone betraying annoyance.

"Don't be stupid, everyone knows that," Seamus brushed him off without a pause. "Spells for that became popular three decades ago."

"Riiiight…"

* * *

><p>Seamus' leather boots slid over dirt; he wasn't lifting his legs properly. But then again, when was the last time when he had done anything properly?<p>

He trudged beside James, only a little salty about the fact that they weren't Stepping. His mind was too preoccupied with James. They were going to Ferma, he knew that much already, but James didn't tell him anything else. He had no idea what they'd do in the capital. He thought he would have figured it out by now, but he didn't, and it was bothering him. He didn't want to ask; no, mages don't ask stupid questions.

He'd find out eventually.

James was silent, for a change, and it gave the blond time to think. He thought about how this was almost a surrealistic experience. The whole bonding, that is.

It wasn't common for mages' magics to bond without creating a very deep connection with each other beforehand. Seamus had no problem admitting he grew fond of James quickly. But still, sympathy and looking out only went so far. Ah, cursed ancients! The ritual used to be a marriage certificate between mages, and then they acknowledged it even outside of that. Not that mages weren't already practicing it without marriage, but it was scowled at. It became a way to deepen one's powers, to draw the mana from another person. This link went both ways, and ultimately led to mages twice as powerful. It was because one could take mana even from the sources other didn't know they possessed (and thus, wouldn't miss). It was supposed to be a ritual, to be performed with magic and not to happen when a student left their master!

Seamus read and listened to many stories about bonding, but never did it involve a one-sided (from what he could tell) spontaneous bond created from abandonment. At least, that's what he thought it was. The sudden emptiness where James' coursing magic should've been.

It was confusing, but at the very least, he could visit the City library in Ferma and look for anything of sorts to help him sort it out. He didn't hold much hope to find a book titled 'How to cope with one-sided magic bonds and weird apprentices', that'd be pushing what scarce luck he possessed far beyond its boundaries. But maybe little tidbits of information would come up. Little tidbits of information was all he needed, just something to push off of.

Never in his longer-than-average lifespan did he need something like now this.

Because never before did he have to worry about his magic spiking unconsciously, about it suddenly flooding his whole body at random times. But that was happening, he could feel the static on his fingertips, could feel the heat underneath his skin that had nothing to do with the crimson of his blood.

"This would go much faster if we Stepped," he remarked, immediately noting the dryness of his lips and throat. He swallowed a few times to ease the discomfort.

"No, this is good," James replied, obviously content with their pace as he walked briskly. Looking at him short pants, Seamus wished he had those instead of his long tunic. "Well get there just in time."

"Just in time for what, exactly?"

Seamus didn't like this, being the one that knew nothing. James was withholding information, he was staring to get mad, he was hot, and James' magic pulsing in his neck was of little help, even with its steady, comforting coolness.

"You'll see. We will go get someone."

Get someone from where, for what, whom even? Seamus wanted to ask, wanted to barrage James with question, like 'why do you need me, then?', 'who's so important to end your training so soon?' or 'can we please just take a break?'

Instead, he stayed quiet and started hovering, lifting the burden off his aching legs. He wasn't made for long walks. Standing around, maybe, but not walking non-stop. Even Stepping he could do for long periods of time, but that was nothing like normal walking; Stepping was like gliding on air, your body gone and back and feeling fresh as ever. But walking involved lifting feet and moving them and Seamus despised travelling as humans did.

In fact, he had gotten into such an argument about it in his head that he didn't end up saying anything to James. He felt like a ghost, floating behind the taller man in dark long robe.

He knew it would be a long, long journey even without looking at his mental map.


	4. Chapter 3

Seamus groaned; he was getting fed up with James refusing to tell him virtually anything. But the young mage led the way through the bustling city confidently, as if he had spent his whole life living there. Maybe he had, Seamus mused - he never really asked about James' past. He figured it rude and just didn't delve into it.

"Will you tell me where we're going now?"

"To the royal prison."

"Ah, oka- wait, what?!" Seamus exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks, the soles of his shoes digging deep into the sandy ground (he stopped floating by the time they reached the city, not wanting to gather any more attention). "What in gods' names would we go there for?!" he asked, perplexed.

"We're busting someone out," came James' calm response. When did he become the composed one?

Seamus opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously wanting to say something and then deciding against it. He shook his head, sending his hair flying, and finally said, "No, that's stupid."

"I know," James chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. "You don't have to help me if you do-"

"What are you blabbering on about?! Of course I have to help you! You're gonna get yourself caught and thrown in the prison and I'll be left without my bondmate. What then?" Seamus asked, knowing full well that James couldn't answer that. He rolled his eyes. "Who?"

"Who who?"

"Who are we busting out? Who is so important that you'd risk your freedom for them? Remember that as a mage, you'd get even worse conditions."

"It's a friend. I owe him one from ages ago," James said, ignoring Seamus' third statement. "I'm the reason he's in that prison, anyway."

"Oh, great. I'm not even going to ask."

"Heh."

"You sure managed a lot in your short life."

* * *

><p>Determination rolled off James' magic - spirit, whatever - in waves, probably trying to contaminate Seamus as well, thought that was not going to happen. Just hurry along and get this over with.<p>

It was the most stupid and reckless thing that he had ever heard James say and gods, did he hear him say stupid things. "Are you one hundred percent positive that I cannot talk you out of this?" he asked, even as they stood mere metres from the prison wall. There were guards no farther than seven metres from them, just behind the corner, and they probably wouldn't have been elated to see them plotting a breakout. You know, right outside of the prison.

"Yeah."

That was the answer he expected, but he still sighed. "Mind telling me your grandiose plan, then?"

"I'll need sleeping spells on the guards in this whole part and a blast spell on this," he tapped the worn out stones, mossy and icky, "wall."

Seamus frowned, sticking a hand into his robe. A second later, it emerged back, holding a small stone. "Just use this, it'll save us some trouble. I'll go work on the guards."

He tossed the stone at James, who caught it expertly. He turned it over in his hands, looking at the rune engraved into it. It read 'fire' and had red lines running all around it. A power manifestation stone. One of these bad boys and the wall would be done for in two seconds flat. He remembered Seamus telling him about those; remembered reading a bunch on them because they intrigued him. They were also rare as hell.

And now he could use one.

James eyed the wall for a few seconds until he felt a slight tug in his stomach. Seamus started putting guards to sleep. James' thoughts swayed to the blond and how much of a hassle it would of been if he weren't here with him.

He placed the stone onto the ground and started chanting a spell that he knew by heart. The air around him went hot and dry instantly, and his magic resonated with the stone. It was such a nice feeling - no description in a book would ever come even close to the real thing.

One more line. The words flew out of his mouth, smooth and trained to perfection. The stone shook a bit in its place and the next second the wall was gone, pieces of debris - stones and moss and dirt - were launched all around and James had to shield his face from them.

When he turned back around, observing his handiwork through the settling dust, he couldn't help but nod approvingly. The manifestation stones were cool.

"I got most of the guards, but some are still going to come check it out," Seamus stated, popping up from behind a corner. He looked the hole over. "Nice work."

"Thanks," James replied, allowing himself a grin. He hoped to get to use more of the stones in the future. He ignored Seamus' additional remark of 'could've been a bit more precise'.

Through the stones on the ground, a figure stepped over, holding a hand on their face to keep the dust away. When they stepped into the sunlight, revealing chocolate hair and pale skin, James smiled in earnest. The man was wearing a light brown tunic and holding onto a small object that looked somewhat like a lantern.

"Aleks!" he exclaimed, closing the distance between himself and the newcomer, grabbing him into a bear hug.

"James," 'Aleks' replied flatly. "You came." It sounded surprised, as if he didn't believe it himself.

"I promised, didn't I?" James said, letting go of Aleks when it became obvious that he wasn't too comfortable in the hold.

"I'm sorry to ruin the no doubt heart wrenching reunion," Seamus peeped up, not sounding very pleased, "but we've got about two dozens of guards just behind that corner coming at us with swords drawn."


	5. Chapter 4

Seamus' eyes were trained to the corner of the prison, even as his hands started drawing runes into the air.

James and Aleks watched as he made a magic circle in front of his face. Aleks didn't move from his spot, simply standing there and clutching his lantern, but James traced a rune into the palm of his tight hand. Seamus went for fire, so he followed suit.

Then the steps of armored guards became audible and they started appearing, holding swords at the ready. Some stopped to assess the situation and their adversaries, but some charged straight at them.

Seamus took in a deep breath and exhaled into the magic circle. His breath changed into flames and scorched the squad of guards that managed to get into its radius. James aimed his hand at the ground and let loose flames that clung to the dry grass and created a fire wall between them and the guards.

"Run!" Seamus hissed, turning on his heels and retreating. He left the magic circle hanging in the air to dissipate on its own.

James tugged Aleks' hand and pulled him along as he followed the blond mage. He didn't really think this plan through. He wanted it to be a clean come-blow-run thing. He was so glad to have Seamus along; he was sure he couldn't've done it by himself.

"Where are we going?" Aleks asked. James let go of his hand when he was sure that the brunet was running along.

"After Seamus," James said, watching the dark cape move with the wind and its owner's movement in front of them. He didn't want to admit to having no idea.

Another reason it was great to have Seamus along.

* * *

><p>It took a long time for Seamus to even notice he had been running instead of Stepping. Adrenaline was leaving his body and his legs were sore and throbbing from all the running.<p>

He had no idea where he was, just that James and whoever it was that they rescued – Aleks? – were behind him. He started hovering, taking the burden off of his legs.

"Where are we?" James asked when they stopped, panting for breath.

Seamus simply shrugged and pointed at a tavern a little further down the street. They were on one of the busier streets. The tavern could probably explain that – all the banter and drunken shouting coming from within it.

"We should get a room," Seamus suggested. His companions nodded and followed him inside.

They let Seamus handle the exchange with the owner behind a bar, waited until he came back with three keys and six coins lighter.

"Upstairs, all the way to the right," Seamus said, pointing at a staircase hidden on the far side of the spacious ground floor.

The three of them made their way through mostly intoxicated crowd and up the stairs. The voices from downstairs were muffled there; Seamus was glad for that. His head was starting to pound painfully.

They took residence in one of their designated rooms, Seamus taking a chair from the table and the other two sitting down on the bed. Seamus exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a little while, easing his headache. "Will you tell me who this is now?" he asked James.

"Oh, right! This is Aleks," James said. "Aleks, this is Seamus, my former master. He taught me how to control my power."

"It's very nice to meet you," Aleks said, holding a hand out. Seamus shook it, saying 'likewise'.

"We travelled a bit with James," Aleks explained, smiling a little. "Throughout the country. He helped me with my job."

"What is your job?" Seamus inquired.

"I am a Star lighter."

"Really?"

"Yes. James made sure I was uninterrupted during my daily rituals. Unfortunately, the king had banned my kind. We were ambushed and I was captured," he said. "James keeps blaming himself." James looked like he wanted to say something, but Aleks cut him off. "It's not your fault. I learned a lot from my prison mates. I won't need you to keep me safe anymore."

Aleks turned and embraced James in a tight hug. "I'll be fine on my own, so don't worry about me, okay? Thank you for getting me out. I'll make sure your stars shine the brightest."

He stood up and left the room in a few long strides. The lantern in his hand creaked a little, the fading sound alerting them of Aleks' departure.

Seamus was so stunned he didn't even have the right mind to complain about renting out three rooms.


	6. Chapter 5

"…what was that?"

James shrugged, exactly as perplexed as Seamus was. They kind of expected Aleks to come back, but the brunet didn't, even after a few minutes, which were spent in silence. They just sat there, looking at each other, but not uttering a single word.

"I'm going to my room," Seamus announced, standing up finally. Apparently he decided that this room was James' to stay in. "See you in the morning."

The door opened and closed, Seamus floating out and into the next room with little sound. James stared at the door for a long while after that, almost memorizing the pattern of the wood. When silence spread, he sighed, resigning himself to sleep.

They - 'they' being him, because Seamus wouldn't allow for anything else when he had been the one coming up with such a tremendous (absolutely horrible) plan - could come up with what to do in the morning.

* * *

><p>James' dreams were laced with loud shouting and fights full of pirates. He awoke with a start and rubbed his eyes sleepily as yells came from the bar downstairs. He thought that a bar fight had started between the drunks, but it didn't seem like the case. He slipped out of his room and went to the staircase to take a look.<p>

There were dozens of people in the main tavern space, most of which were people whose uniforms James could identify immediately. Royal guards.

What were they doing here?! They couldn't have seen them flee this far, there was just no way. But they must've, because Seamus was in the middle of a circle consisting of about ten guards. They were pointing swords at his throat even though he didn't show any indication of wanting to fight back.

Seamus' eyes travelled up the stairs and meet James' own ones. He mouthed a few words.

'I knew it was a bad idea.'

James paled in horror as Seamus continued. 'Stay where you are. Don't move.'

* * *

><p>Seamus hoped that James could understand him, but, just in case he couldn't (or wouldn't), he outstretched his hand just a tad bit and cast a light magic barrier at the foot of the stairs. James wouldn't be able to follow even if he wanted. And he most probably wanted to, judging by his expression of utter panic.<p>

Seamus didn't want this to happen, of course he didn't!

But he couldn't let them get his little James, not when he was able to stop them. He turned himself in, but it was for the better. Even if he now had a Star lighter to protect him, it wouldn't matter because there wasn't enough time for Aleks to put his magic to good just. That didn't matter either. As long as his little James was okay, he could even rot in the prison for all he cared.

He followed as the guards started pushing him out of the tavern, casting one last look at James' pained face. He frowned; that's not how he wanted his last look at James to be. He thought back to all the hours, days, that they spent in Seamus' tower, reading books, casting runes, making potions…

James had always been a goofy one. Whatever they'd be doing, if Seamus turned to look at him, he'd have a smile splitting his face. Except when he got impatient or frustrated and ended up mad, but Seamus knew how to make that go away. In the end, he'd always get James to smile again. It was his specialty.

That's how he wanted to remember James - smiling and carefree - when he'd be tossed into the dark, damp prison. Not concerned, not horrified, and most definitely not scared. Not because of him.

* * *

><p>James rushed down the stairs as soon as his mind caught up with everything in front of him. The guards were directing Seamus out of the tavern - rather harshly. The blond followed difficult, though, that's what baffled James the most.<p>

He ran had first into an invisible wall, stumbling and then dumbly wondering what was going on. He ran his fingers over the air in front of him, as if solidified. It thumped with magic - Seamus' magic. So that's what it was. A magic barrier. Seamus had used a few of those during their trainings, as shields and sometimes even weapons.

James growled in frustration as he pounded a fist on the barrier. It stayed unmoving under his touch, pounding heavily and strongly - rather angrily - with energy that James so often felt when touching, or even being close to, Seamus.

Why was Seamus doing this?!


	7. Chapter 6

The magical barrier fell, but by then, James was slumped down on the stairs, leaned on the barrier and staring at the wall with watery eyes. He tumbled down, landing on his right arm, but he didn't even register the pain as he stood up.

It was all his fault, was the only thing racing through his mind.

He had to fix it. He had to go get Seamus before… He gulped. He could feel the slight tug in his gut, nagging and prodding and telling him to get out. Seamus was telling his to get out. His heartbeat was through the roof and his breathing was labored and he was crying.

And everyone else in the whole tavern looked unfazed by all of it.

Iron shackles were too heavy, Seamus decided as he lifted his hands testingly, letting them droop immediately and sighing at the burden. They were also covered in runes, anti-magic ones.

Ha, what an irony. Using runes, magical runes, to ban magic. Seamus would have liked to see the person who came up with that idea and tell them that they were a hypocritical idiot.

Another thing that he would have liked was to get out of the little damp cell they'd thrown him into. It was dark and if the runes on his shackles weren't emanating faint light, he wouldn't be able to see absolutely anything. Another piece of irony that grated on his nerves.

He pointed his gaze at the iron bars that separated his cell from the rest of the prison. A simple blast spell would've torn them down to shreds, and Seamus was sitting there, powerless. It was another taunt. Just another taunt.

Everything around him was a taunt right now; the small window right below the ceiling that he couldn't reach thanks to his height; the fact that they let him keep everything he had on himself and now he couldn't even use them; or his link with James pulsing angrily in the back of his head. It was reminding him how much of a stupid idea this had been. Maybe if he'd let them get James, he could've gotten him out quickly. No, he couldn't think like that.

He was immensely glad they'd gotten him instead.

* * *

><p>His first instinct was to go back and grab Seamus' cloak from his room. It was haphazardly thrown on the dresser and when James wound it around himself, he could smell the lingering scent of his blond on it. It enveloped him in warmth and brought back memories from the tower.<p>

_"Come on! I know you can do better!" Seamus' voice called from the other side of the tower._

_James was already panting, but Seamus didn't even break a sweat yet. Determined to change that and prove him right, James mustered strength and formed a fireball the size of a human head in his hand. He shoved it in the direction of the blond, watching it arc in the air and land in Seamus' outstretched hand._

_"See? I told you you could do it!" Seamus smiled, letting the fireball disperse. "Let's go in, tea will help you from nausea." Seamus led him back inside and through the countless staircases that didn't tire their legs at all (Seamus once said this whole tower was an illusion. 'What you see and what is real are two different things. Always learn the other side before believing in anything,' Seamus told him)._

_Seamus made them (mostly him) tea and they settled in the library, by a small desk littered with research notes the blond didn't catalogue yet._

_The tea really helped him, the nausea and fatigue that started settling in his body were quickly erased. It must've had something to do with Seamus' 'special tea mixture'. The blond never told him what was in it._

_"Do you want to hear a story?" Seamus asked him, setting down his already emptied cup._

_"Yeah," James replied._

_"Have I ever told you about the legend of moving library?" Seamus scanned the library they were in, all the books around._

_"No."_

_"Well they say there's a library somewhere in this world that never stays in the same place. It moves around and everyone who wants its knowledge has to travel to months, sometimes even years, to reach it. No one knows who made it or how it chooses its locations. It could be in the nearest town's main square for all we know."_

_As Seamus talked, the scenery behind the single window on their left slowly changed. There were people bustling around, a clock tower chimed and James would make out the roofs of small houses._

_"Or it could be underground, hidden in one of the many mineshafts that litter this land." Again, the scenery morphed and it became a dark tunnel, lit only with torches on the walls. Stones shimmered on the sides of the tunnel and there was the unmistaking sound of picks hitting them. James held his breath, tea forgotten as he gazed at the spectacle. He could've sworn he smelled the earthly scent of the mineshaft._

_"Or, it could be in our tower. Who knows?" The scenery changed back to the (still breathtaking) overview of their forest._

_James decided to not ask Seamus how he did that._

James smiled at that memory. To this day he didn't understand how Seamus did that, and he had never asked. He told himself that some secrets were better kept secrets. He fastened the leather tie so the cloak wouldn't slip down and he left the room, skipping down the steps and into the warm morning air outside. Or maybe it was just the cloak keeping him warm – all the people around seemed to be cold, from what he could see.

He headed in the direction of not the prison, but rather, the library. He needed to come up with a good plan of getting Seamus back. He wouldn't dare fuck this up. The only reason why they got Aleks out was because Seamus was there, doing most of the work.

But now, James was alone, with only Aleks' prayers.


	8. Chapter 7

The library was enormous. As soon as James stepped and saw a glimpse of it, he was certain he could get lost in .07 seconds flat.

The walls were lined with shelves full of books from the bottom to the very top, organised by names and sometimes by colors. James had never seen such a marvellous sight. Even though Seamus' library was big, it didn't hold a candle to all the books laying before him now.

Somewhere in the middle of that giant, maze-like building was a desk with a librarian sitting behind it, busy going through scrolls and papyruses. She looked up from one rather old looking when she heard James arriving.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

James just shook his head, looking around to see whether there was a magic section in there. He kind of doubted it, since magic has been banned a good few years back, but still… such a library was bound to have something, right?

Now, where to start, where to start…?

* * *

><p>Seamus' mind tended to wander quite a lot when he was left alone. It was the leftover from when he was all alone in the tower, before James popped up in his life.<p>

He found a (relatively) comfortable position, leaning against one of the slimy walls and resting his hands in his lap. That way, the cuffs didn't weight him down as much. Bus still, it was miles and miles from actually being comfortable.

He thought about how long he would last without food. Two months? Three tops. His magic (or what he had access to, which was an almost non existential amount, if you were wondering) would keep him alive, but he knew it wouldn't be without a price. He pondered whether they'd bring him food, or if they'd let him die in the cell, slowly and agonizingly.

He cursed his damned mind, for always jumping to the worst case scenario, every time, without an error. It was kind of hard to keep optimistic about James coming to save when the only company he had down there were the distorted screams coming from somewhere further in and the rat that had taken a residence mere inches away from him, gnawing on a piece of something unidentifiable.

Actually, Seamus hoped James wouldn't come. He wanted the darknet to run, run away from the big city and… even take residence in his tower, he didn't care, he just wanted James to steer clear of danger. And getting Seamus out screamed danger louder than the mermaids' calls.

The soul link tugged at his stomach, making it hurt long before due, but it was dull and somehow far away. Seamus accounted that to the runes limiting his magic. The link must've been weakened by himself being weakened, so it didn't bother as much as usual. It still left disgusting taste in the back of his mouth where he couldn't reach to get rid of it and let him know that James wasn't getting any farther from him.

Seamus didn't even want to imagine the outcome of James' attempt to free him.

* * *

><p>The stars twinkled in the sky, surrounding the moon with a beautiful scenery.<p>

Aleks craned his neck, shielding the light from his lantern with one hand so it wouldn't obscure his vision. His gaze fell from star to star, finally settling on a small bulk of them, just over the tree line.

"Good luck," he mused quietly, watching as one the stars seemed to blink at him. Another one followed, and they blicked on at the same time.

All the stars were lit. His job was done for tonight.

He blew out the flame inside his lantern and turned to continue down the road.

"And I'm sorry. I really am."

* * *

><p>The library did indeed have books on magic, a whole plethora of them. So many, in fact, that James had no idea where to start. He skimmed book by book, looking for spells powerful enough to help him without a need for a manifestation stone.<p>

It proved to be quite an endeavor; he stayed in the library way past the closing hours with the help of a small, cloaking spell that he was sure the librarian saw right through, but she didn't comment and simply locked the place down, leaving James alone with just a few candles and all the books.

When he thought he had found what he had been looking for, it was well into the morning hours and he was barely keeping his eyes open, so he wasn't even sure whether it really was it. He passed out into restless sleep, half hidden by tall stacks of faded books, face smushed against the wooden table and Seamus' magic softly tugging at his side.


End file.
